She smiled and for a moment he stood still, struck by the beauty that came over her face. Her eyes lit up and tiny dimples emerged on her cheeks. He turned away abruptly, confused by the sudden onslaught of emotions.
Rather than go out by the front room, Charles returned to his bedroom and took his rifle from where it hung on the wall. With Lilly milking the cows in the mornings and evenings, it left him a lot of time to stock up for the looming winter.
The next couple of days he intended to hunt as many wild animals as he could so that they would have a large supply in the coming months. When he returned to the front room, he felt loath to leave without a word to Lilly.
He took reluctant steps back to the kitchen. She was standing by the sink, her hair held in a ponytail that fell to her back. She turned back when she heard his steps.
“I’m going hunting today; I’ll probably be gone all day. We need to start stocking up for winter,” he informed her.
“Ok, there are several wild berry trees I saw growing at the end of the pasture. They will go wonderfully with game meat. I’ll pick those today,” Lilly replied.
Charles nodded in approval. He knew where the wild berries grew and it was a safe distance from the cabin. Wild animals rarely ventured towards the homestead—the main danger lay in going too far into the forest. With that, he left, taking the path that led into the wooded area.
He found himself oddly distracted with thoughts about Lilly.
The last couple of weeks had opened his eyes to the fact that Lilly was more hardworking than any woman he had ever known. In addition to milking, she saw to their meals and once she had finished the days chores, she was busy clearing out a patch of land where she intended to plant a vegetable garden next spring.
He admired that kind of spirit and recognized in her characteristics resembling his. Charles realized that it did not have to be that bad between them. He was confused about the strong aversion he still had to her disability, thought. He knew he was and could be a better man than that.
The trees grew thicker the further he walked. Charles’ destination was almost two hours away where the grass grew up to one’s shoulders and smaller animals like deer were in plentiful supply. As he walked, his ears were tuned to his surroundings, alert to every sound.
Something at the back of his mind nagged him and after much searching he realized what it was. Every time he set off on a hunting expedition, the last thing he did was to pray for his safety, which he hadn’t done that morning. He had not prayed for weeks now. He stopped suddenly, dropped his gun to the moist ground and went down on his knees.
Dear Father in heaven, forgive me for my sins and with your grace, wipe my slate clean. I pray for safety today for myself and for my wife back home. Walk in front of me and behind me and shield me from wild animals and other dangers only seen by You. In Jesus’ mighty name I do pray and believe, Amen.
Charles felt lighter after that, and he walked with a confident gait. He came to the grassy plains and positioned himself against a huge oak tree and waited. Successful hunting was dependent on one’s ability to be still and patient, both of which Charles possessed. He was soon rewarded by felling a deer. There would be meat aplenty for weeks to come.
Though pleased with himself, Charles stole a worried glance at the darkening skies. He could smell a storm coming on and he was a good two-hour walk away from home. His only hope was to hurry up, but with a deer on his back, his progress would be slow. Charles thought hard. Rather than head home, he opted to continue on the open grassland towards the main road instead of using the shortcut path through the forest.
He hadn’t made much progress when fat drops of freezing rain began to fall from the sky, accompanied by flashes of lightning. Soon, the drops came down in earnest and Charles could not see more than a step ahead of him. The deer grew heavier with each step, but he would not put it down. Salted and stored, it would keep them going for more than a month.
Charles resolutely shifted his mind from the weariness in his shoulders and legs, and instead made plans for the next hunting expedition. He hoped to snare a wild pig or two. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the future, dark thoughts invaded his brain. He thought of dying here in the wilderness.
More than that, he thought of Lilly by herself in the cabin, waiting for him day after day. With that, he used the remainder of his strength to haul himself forward, hoping that he was going in the right direction. Twenty minutes of labored walking brought Charles to a stone dwelling, made naturally from three giant rocks leaning against each other.
Soaking wet, he lounged himself inside the shelter and dropped his deer on the ground beside him. He sank to his feet and promised himself not to fall asleep. He sat facing the entrance, his gun ready and cocked, pointing towards the front. Charles knew that the shelter probably belonged to a family of bears and soon they would return home.
Five minutes later, his eyes had shut of their own accord, and his gun lay limp on his lap.
***
Charles was aroused from his deep sleep by his shivering body. He woke up with a start, looking around him and seeing only darkness. The events of the last few hours came to his mind and he frantically felt for his gun. He felt safer with the gun in his hand. Peering out, he saw that the ground was now covered in snow and it was steadily growing. His heart twisted with the anguish of knowing that Lilly was all alone. Charles had seen snow fall before winter was due, years earlier.
It could go on for days and if he stayed in the cave, he would be marooned for days with no food. He could do it too, Charles reasoned, but he couldn’t leave Lilly for that long, she was his responsibility. His mind awash with confusion, Charles dropped his head in his hands and prayed. Desperate, he promised the Lord to do better by his wife if he got another opportunity.
His body still felt a little weak, but he hauled the deer onto his back and grabbed his gun. The snow had ceased for a moment and he stepped out into the white softness. It must be early evening, Charles told himself, seeing the last flicker of daylight. Once outside, Charles realized that he had veered to the north of the main road.
Sure now that he was headed in the right direction, his feet moved faster, keeping up with the now rapidly falling snow. Charles almost wept when he recognized the winding road that led to the homestead. By now, the snow was coming down in earnest and his body, apart from growing exhausted, was hot with what Charles thought was a fever.
The distance by foot from the junction to the cabin usually took thirty minutes. Charles trudged on and lost all concept of time. Worse, he feared his mind was playing tricks on him. Sometimes he thought he was walking towards the outpost and even saw the general store ahead of him. With sheer willpower, Charles forced his mind back to the present. It worked for a while, until he realized that he had no idea where the cabin was.
He might have been going round in circles for all he knew. The snow covered the tracks of the road, so that the land and the road meshed together into one stretch of white. Unable to go further, Charles collapsed against the bark of a tree and contented himself with whatever the Lord wished for him.
He must have dozed off because when his eyes flicked open, Charles thought that he had gone to heaven. A beacon of light the shape of a candle burnt in the distance and Charles smiled to himself, knowing he was about to meet his maker. He pushed himself to his feet and without thinking, hauled the deer onto his back and took small steps towards the light.
The closer he got, the more his heart lightened. His only regret was that he had not been much of a husband to Lilly but even that thought soon faded, the beacon of light ahead taking over all his senses. He imagined warmth that would shake off the cold that seemed to have dug its way into the very depths of his bones.
He imagined the peace that would descend on him as soon as he got close enough to stretch his hand to touch the light. He quickened his steps, though he knew that he was dragging his right foot. It had gone numb from the cold but a fire in his
body kept him going, his glance focused straight ahead.
Charles foundered when he drew close and his legs gave way. A crushing disappointment that he had not made it to the very edge of the light. Then he felt something touch him and he knew that he was not alone. The Lord had sent his angels to carry him home.
EIGHT
Lilly busied about the homestead, her heart awash with hope. Her prayers were slowly but surely coming true. Charles was thawing towards her. For a week now, she had been fasting. Denying herself anything to eat or drink during the day and only taking a mug of tea in the morning and a little dinner at night. Charles had not noticed and she was glad of that. She would not stop fasting just yet, though, she thought to herself.
She looked at her findings for the morning and felt proud of herself. She had found watercress growing by a stream and plucked as many as she could carry in her basket. That, as well as the blueberries she had found, made for a successful morning. Lilly washed the berries clean and then took them out to the backyard to dry.
To her disappointment, the sun had disappeared; in its place, thick grey clouds that moved across the skies at lightning speed. Still, it wasn’t raining and she left them outside, spread out on a cheese cloth. As she was about to go back inside, she heard hooves from a distance and she went round the house to the front.
She saw him then, a man on a cart looking suspiciously like an undertaker. She would have been alarmed, but for Charles explanation earlier in the week, that because they lived so remotely his acquaintance, Mr. James, at the postal office would send any mail through with people travelling their general way.
“Good day to you Mrs. Got some correspondence for you,” the man said, his eyes almost covered by a wide brimmed hat.
“Good day to you too,” Lilly replied, reaching for the bunch of letters that he handed to her. “Thank you.”
“There’s a storm coming on, be sure to take care now,” the man said, before turning his horse and cart, and continuing on his away.
Lilly looked at the skies distractedly and returned to the house, her hands busy flicking through the envelopes. There were five letters in all, and three were addressed to her. Lilly marveled that in all the time she had been here, she had not given much thought to the life she had left behind. It seemed so removed from her reality. But glancing at the letters, she felt the full force of homesickness.
She ripped open the one with Violet’s handwriting. She spoke of her worry that Lilly had not communicated and a stab of guilt tore at her. Lilly promised herself that she would write letters to her family to let them know how she was faring. Her mother’s letter was short and spoke of how much she missed Lilly.
The third one was even shorter from Margaret. Hers was as Lilly would have expected, urging her to return home at the slightest sign of discomfort. Lilly chuckled to herself. If Margaret could see how remote the cabin was from anywhere she would have a fit. Of the two letters remaining, one was addressed to Charles and the other just had his initials and the address.
The remainder of the afternoon passed in a series of activities for Lilly. She prepared the watercress with the hope that Charles would bring home some fresh game. Lilly looked out again and saw that flakes of snow were dripping from the sky. She stood transfixed at the kitchen window, watching the snow gain momentum.
Worry descended on her and she thought of Charles out in the cold. She remembered the undertaker’s warning and trembled. As if on cue, lightning shook the cabin and Lilly covered her ears. She stood rooted to the spot and watched as darkness swiftly set in. Fear gripped her heart. What was she to do? Charles had not told her of what one did in such situations.
Back home, if she had been alone and in dire need of help, she would have rushed to the neighbor’s a stone’s throw away to seek help. Here, there were no neighbors nearby. She had never felt as alone as she did at that moment. She dragged herself from the window and sat at the table cradling her bible.
Dear Lord, I pray for the safety of my husband. Please lead him home safely, Lilly chanted under her breath over and over again.
The hours dragged on and still no sign of Charles. Lilly alternated between rushing to the front room window that looked out on the front yard and returning to her bible, reading it frantically and taking none of its comfort in.
She fell asleep on the kitchen table, her head on the wood and her hands sprawled out in front of her. She woke up to the light of the day. Her heart thudding hard against her chest, Lilly rushed through the house, knowing that if Charles had come home, he would have woken her up.
The snow had ceased but now the rain came down in bucketful’s. Lilly twisted her hands, digging her nails into the flesh of her skin. She paced the length of the front room and kitchen and could not summon the concentration or energy to do anything else. Charles, where are you? Her brain screamed repeatedly.
***
As evening descended, Lilly knew she had to do something. The snow had stopped falling momentarily. Determined to use the opportunity, Lilly gathered some dry wood and took it outside. There was a knoll a mile away and Lilly dragged with her a hoe. Progress was slow.
She cleared out the snow, her hands frozen by the chilling temperatures but that was nothing compared to how Charles might be feeling. When she had cleared out most of the snow and reached the ground, Lilly arranged the wood and lit a fire. Her reasoning was that in the current weather, Charles may have lost his sense of direction. When he saw the fire, he would be inclined to head towards it.
Back and forth she went, each time returning with a bundle of wood, which she fed to the fire, watching as it grew bigger and bigger. Exhausted, Lilly sat by the fire, her eyes trying to see through the mist. To her dismay, the snow began falling again. Just as she was about to return to the cabin, Lilly thought she saw a figure walking towards her.
She got up and limped towards it as fast as she could, and when she neared, she saw that it was a man and he had collapsed to the ground. She got closer and let out a wail. It was Charles, and lying on top of him was the carcass of a deer. It took all her might to drag him to the house. When she finally managed to drag him to the rug she had recently made for the front room, she worked in a frenzy to remove his wet clothes.
All the while, Lilly said a prayer of thanks and prayed that Charles would survive. His body was hot to the touch and after she had removed his clothes, she covered him with a light blanket and wiped him down with a wet cloth. He seemed to settle down after that. Lilly remembered the deer. Despite her exhaustion, she trudged off again through the snow.
Charles had used his last remaining strength to ensure he returned home with meat. The only thing she had to do was drag the carcass into the house, Lilly told herself. It was heavy, almost as heavy as Charles and by the time she had dragged it to the front of the house and buried it in snow, Lilly was so tired she collapsed right beside it.
The next few hours tested Lilly until she broke down in frustration. She could see that Charles needed a doctor but there was no way she could leave him and go out looking for help. She had no idea how to get back to the outpost. She had moved a feather mattress to the front room and laid him on it.
He drifted into consciousness now and then, each time speaking of things that made no sense. Hours blended into each other so that Lilly had no idea what day or time it was. The mood of the cows alerted her that she hadn’t milked them in two days. Her own clothes stank and she hurriedly milked them and then cleaned herself.
When she returned to Charles’s side, he was twisting on the mattress, the blankets wrapped around him tightly. With a cry of anguish she rushed to his side and undid the blankets, but still he twisted. She washed him down and to her relief, she saw that whatever had gripped him was ebbing away.
Too exhausted even to pray, Lilly sat there and let the thoughts she had managed to keep at bay swim in her mind. What if Charles did not make it? The very thought brought out a sweat of fear. She had no one to turn to in the wilderness
of Montana. She remembered the letters addressed to Charles and jumped up to get them from the kitchen table.
The first one bore some information with regards to the prices of beef cattle. She tossed it aside and slit open the next one.
Dear Mr. Jones,
I received and read your letter with disappointment and regret. I assure you that I had not known that Lilly Gable was a cripple before sending her out to you as a prospective bride. I am painfully aware that there is not much that I can say and do to apologize for that grave mistake. I do assure you that we go to great lengths to ensure that the brides we send are of good moral character and that they are physically normal.
I have written this letter in haste so that it may reach you as soon as possible. I will reimburse you the fee that you paid and we will also include the amount it cost you for Lilly Gable to travel to Montana. I will continue to be on the—
Lilly could not read anymore. She threw the letter to the ground and fled the house, leaving by the back door. Drops of rain fell on her face and head as she limped across the yard to the cattle shed. Cripple? The word rang around her mind like a loud bell that would not stop its ringing. She clamped her hands on her ears and swayed from side to side. No one had ever referred to her as a cripple, and the word hurt more than a knife to her heart would have.
NINE
Charles was aware of movements around him, and he felt soft hands on his face and body as someone wiped him down. His eyes seemed too heavy to open. He didn’t know how long he had lain there shifting from one world to another. The past featured in his thoughts far more than the present.
A memory kept fighting to come to the surface and when it finally burst through, it took Charles back to forgotten years. He was six years old, hiding under a table and trying to shut out the animal-like noises that his mother was making on the mattress on the corner of the small room. With her was a neighbor woman, assisting with the birth.
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